Yule Shoot Your Eye Out
by Cela Fille
Summary: Because only Josh Hotz seemed to have to ability to turn everything around... ::oneshot:: SSFE for -rainbow-lights!


**for the amazingly fantabulous **raine**, lover of all things **erik van der woodsen**, brilliant writer-ess, and certified **seth clearwater** whore. **

**prompts: **snow**; **bratty kids**; **chocolate**; **central park**; and the word '**bananarama**' XD**

**well... i tried? warning****: slight au****.  
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**merry christmas****, **raine-bow**!**

**sorry for the lateness (MIAMI BEACH CALLS)  
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**(beeteedoubleyew... ****LISTEN to** _yule shoot your eye out. _**just because.****)  
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**y u l e . s h o o t . y o u r . e y e . o u t **

A Secret Santa Fic for -rainbow-lights;

_Don't come home for Christmas  
You're the last thing I wanna see  
Underneath the tree  
Merry Christmas, I could care less._

**-d.m-**

She watched idly through the window as the snow outside came down in soft swirls over the blanket of frost covering the great expanse of lawn spread out before her. It was dark, but the Whoville-esque decorations draped across every inch of the Block Estate gave the enormous mansion a festive glow. Christmas was by far, her least favorite holiday. The happiness, the joy of giving, the family-togetherness- it was all such bullshit. Her own mother made no effort to spend time with her; instead, rushing out of the Marvil Mansion in a flurry of ruffled scarlet silk and silver stilettos, blowing her a kiss.

_"I'll try to be home soon, Dilly bear!"_

Lie. So she had accepted Massie's invitation to her exclusive Christmas Eve ball.

Christmases for the Marvils hadn't always been this way. When they still lived in New York City, the two of them- just her and Merri-Lee- would spend Christmas Eve together. First, they'd have their own chocolate and wine tasting party, followed by dressing up in the most ridiculously festive and flashy dresses and strut down the streets of the Upper East Side, smiling as the paparazzi flashed pictures for their 'Hollywood Families" holiday segment. They'd ice skate in Central Park, be the honored guests at the Rockefeller Christmas Tree lighting, and end the night with a warm, home-cooked dinner and hot chocolate with whipped cream. _That _was a real Christmas.

It wasn't like the party sucked or anything. Massie had really outdone herself this time. Huge ice sculptures carved intricately into the shapes of singing angles stood in each corner of the ballroom; metallic silver snowflakes hung on barely visible wires from the gilded arched ceiling, giving a feel of snowfall; long banquet tables covered with silver silk tablecloths were piled with an extravagant French buffet. In the center of the room, an enormous, forty-foot Christmas tree stood, glittering from head to toe with delicate ornaments and candy canes, topped off with a huge, glittering gold star. No, that's not why she was angry.

What pissed her off was all the fucking _romance _related to the fucking holiday. Claire and Derrick, the ever-nauseating couple, were cuddled close together on a plush love seat, basically sucking each others faces off- bringing a new definition to PDA. Massie was socializing with all her guests as her latest boy toy, Chris Abeley, wrapped his arms protectively around her waist and nuzzled her neck. Alicia, as per usual, was simply sitting at one of the bars, a bored expression on her face as a group of admirers gathered around her. Even Kristen, who had even less luck with the guys than she did, managed to snag a date- Chris Plovert, no less- for the party. The only people not coupled up were Danny Robbins and Kemp Hurley- who were too busy stuffing condoms into bananas from the banquet table and throwing them at Layne Abeley and her boyfriend Griffin Hastings, screaming "Bananarama, emo slut whores!" for no apparent reason.

And what was she doing? Sitting alone in a corner, sipping sparkling cider in her champagne flute as everyone else reveled in their own little love stories (or, um, bananaraming?). Christmas. Sucked.

**-j.h-**

"Ehmagawd Josh, I absolutely ah-dore your tie! It totally matches your eyes!"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he managed to muster a smile to the somewhat brain-dead, but admittedly hot blonde in his arms. She smiled up at him, completely unaware that the red silk tie he was wearing bore no resemblance to his deep brown eyes. He wasn't like one of those gay vampires from _Twilight. _Not that he saw the movie or anything...

"You look pretty good yourself..." he murmured in her ear, causing her to giggle loudly and tighten her hold on his waist.

"Oh, Joshie!"

He grimaced. Olivia Ryan was not his idea of the ideal date. But in his defense, coming to the party was completely unexpected. Up until a few days ago, he had planned on staying at his Aspen chalet with Derrick, Cam, Plovert, and Kemp to snowboard for the rest of the holidays. But then Claire just _had _to call Derrick, asking him to take her to Massie Block's (aka, the pyscho-bitch leader of that freaking _cult, _The Pretty Committee) Christmas party. And being the whipped loser he was, he had agreed and dragged the rest of the guys with him. And he definitely could not show up without a date. Olivia giggled again and tugged on his tie to get his attention. Her ridiculously sparkly hot pink cocktail dress was embarrassingly bright and attracted snickers from the people around them.

"Josh!" she whined, stretching his name out so it sounded like _'Jawwwwwsh!'_. "I want to dance!"

"Sorry Livs," He extracted his arms from her grip in one fluid motion. "I'm totally starved and want to get some caviar. Want me to bring you some?" he lied easily, deciding not to mention that he hated caviar with a passion.

"Caviar?" Her barely visible eyebrows furrowed. "Isn't that, like, fish?"

"Yeah,"

"Ew! No thanks!"

Smirking, he turned to walk away.

"I'll come find you right after you're done eating!" she shouted after him and he frowned.

Just fucking perfect.

**-d.m-**

She stared at the chocolate fountain longingly, her mouth practically lusting for the melted, sweet confection. But she knew Massie had put one there for decorative purposes only. _"No one would actually eat from that thing!"_ she had claimed, turning her nose up into the air, as if the idea of eating something with sugar was repulsive. Sighing, she looked at her options. The table was flooded with expensive French dishes: bouillabaisse with rouille, aigo boulido, roasted turkey drizzled in duck sauce, shallot crepes, the works. Even the tantalizing deserts looking like art; alfajores, butter cookies held together with rich, melted caramel, tiramisu, home made yule log... There were plenty of sugary goods just _begging _to be eaten, but they remained completely untouched. And there was no way in hell that she would be the first to start eating them. Frowning, she plucked a tiny Godiva chocolate wrapped in gold foil from a colorful assortment and quickly popped it in her mouth.

The chocolate felt good against her tongue and she savored the euphoric flavor that went away all too quickly. She watched jealously as Todd Lyons and one of his little minions ran across the room toward the chocolate fountain, pushing aside the appalled guests to practically gorge down the pools of rich milk chocolate that had gathered at the bottom. Brats.

Averting her eyes from the sickening sight of the boys inhaling down gallons of melted chocolate, she grabbed a virgin strawberry daiquiri and turned to go back to her corner of solitude.

Suddenly, a shower of amber liquid- most likely some type of brandy- spilled at the bottom of her emerald pleated Badgley Mischka cocktail dress. Swearing loudly, she looked up to see a startled guy staring back at her, holding an empty wine glass in his hand. She froze. This guy was ten different types of _hot. _Everything, from his deep, russet colored skin to his smoldering brown eyes and perfectly fitted tux just screamed _Yeah, you know I'm gorgeous. _

"I'm so sorry!" he apologized and quickly handed her a few silver embossed napkins. She took them silently, almost hyperventilating. A totally _sexy _guy just spilled alcohol all over her dress and she couldn't even manage to mumble a small _it's fine _or anything. Could this night get any worse?

**-j.h-**

"I'll be fine," the girl stuttered finally. She straightened and he managed to get a better look at her. She was undeniably beautiful- pale, freckled skin, striking jade eyes and fiery red hair that cascaded past her shoulders to curl softly near the small of her back. She bit her mauve lip- an action that was so erotic, he could hardly breathe- and surveyed the damage to her expensive-looking dress. "There's only one thing I can do now."

And to his surprise, she grabbed the hem and tore it off, leaving the dress several inches shorter- barely covering her toned thighs. She dropped the discarded satin in her hands to the floor and gave him a shy smile.

"I'm Dylan,"

"Josh Hotz," he said smoothly and leaned in toward her with a small smirk. "I really like the improvements to your dress."

She blushed- a full blush from the roots of her hair that flushed her face a vibrant shade of apple-red.

"Nice to meet you," she ran her hands down the side of her thighs- a pretty damn seductive move that did not go unnoticed by him- and grabbed a few more napkins. "Well, I have to head back now-"

Suddenly, an outbreak of gleeful shouting came from behind them and Josh was suddenly aware that nearly everyone (with the exception of a certain fuming blonde by Ice Angel #5) in the room was staring at them, whooping and clapping. Dylan looked equally confused, then stiffened and looked up. Mistletoe.

She started to shake her head, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her toward him until she was practically mashed against his chest, grinning mischievously.

"Scared, ginger?"

She narrowed her eyes at the mere suggestion and he took the challenge, slamming his mouth against hers.

Her lips tasted like chocolate.

**-d.m-**

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod... _Hardly thinking about anything else, she let her stomach perform somersaults worthy of a gold-medalist gymnast in the Olympics and became painfully aware of the giggles behind her. Something electric coursed through her veins. All too soon, he pulled away, face flushed adorably and panting slightly. Straightening his red silk tie, Josh winked before walking away.

"See you around, Dyl."

She could only nod in response as she lost sight of him as he made his way through the thicket in the crowd, pumping fists with Cam Fisher and glancing back at her to grin.

Christmas? Best. Holiday. Ever.

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**Yay for Christmas fluff? Reviews would make my day :)**


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